


Burned

by Miphan



Category: King's Maker (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-04 18:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15153455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miphan/pseuds/Miphan
Summary: Wolfgang gets closer one step at a time.Shin doesn't pull away.





	1. Chapter 1

He is like a star.

Wise. Graceful. Beautiful.

And so, so far away.

His expression is always controlled, a calm mask that can win against any challenge. His steps are always careful, measured, organized. He plans and plans and plans for every possibility, every outcome. It always works. He knows where he was, where he is and where he wants to go.

He wants to follow him.

And he does. He becomes his puppet willingly, knowing that whatever they do is for the greater good and that they will succeed. It's his plan, after all. How can they lose?

Every day he gets closer, pulled by gravity, drawn in by a pair of dark eyes. His star doesn't pull away.

Until he reaches out and pulls Shin closer by his hand.

The dance continues on inside the palace. But the blinding lights don't reach the royal gardens. The music is nothing but a faraway whisper lost in the night. They are alone.

He would only see Shin even if they weren't. With one hand he lifts Shin's hand on the right position and places the other on the upper part of his back. Shin's free hand moves to mimic the action and the spot feels immediately warm under the golden fabric.

He takes the lead, slowly moving them around in a silent song. He never loses sight of Shin's eyes. They are wide with something between surprise and awe. The starry sky above them is mirrored in their depths. The crystal water surrounding them ripples in the light breeze. The reflection of the silver moon trembles in its depths.

He smirks and brings Shin closer, leaning down to press his head on his shoulder. Shin's body tenses for a moment, but relaxes quickly, getting used to the new position. They dance slowly, silently, appreciating the privacy in a palace full of expectations and people. It is nice to have a moment of relaxation away from the thunderous royal life. It almost feels like a dream, an illusion that will fade the moment he lets go of Shin's hand.

He doesn't know how much time they spend like this nor does he care.

Only one thought is clear in his mind.

He wants to be in the orbit of that star. Forever.

Even if he gets burned in the process.


	2. Chapter 2

The King's eyes are as cold as the snow falling outside. 

Perhaps even more so. 

They watch him, like a lion eyeing his prey, as he walks forward. Every step brings him closer to the predator, closer to fate worse than death. As always, his only protection is pretty and well-placed words. Empty flattery that he had learned how to convey from a young age. His father had made sure that such an ability would be engraved in his soul. He was grateful for it. A misplaced breath could mean death in the palace. Still, if the worst were to happen no one would defend him, lest they wanted to meet death earlier. 

A flash of golden eyes passes through his mind, softer and gentler, kinder. 

He will never let his plans fall this way. 

Never let him fall.

Instead, he falls on one knee in front of the King. He lies to him, not letting his discomfort show. His mask is perfect. With it on he is safe. He is going to be alright. He focuses on his breaths, wills them to flow slowly, normally. The method is a success. It always is. He is called closer and he obeys, letting the King touch him, pass a finger along the line of his lips. Everything is fine. He can do this. Until the King summons him to that room. To that despicable chamber full of children's toys. How innocent must it seem to a fool's eye.

He loses control for a second. His eyes widen. His breath hitches. The mask dangerously slips away. He isn't ready. He has more time. He is supposed to have more time. He puts the mask back on. He has to agree. There is no other choice. There never was.

The King leaves him trembling at the foot of the throne. He hugs himself, but the ghost of that touch doesn't go away. He doesn't want to be here. He stands and flees from the throne room, half-stumbling on his way out. The guards stationed at the door don't pay any attention to him. They have eyes, but cannot see. They have ears, but cannot hear. They are statues, dolls, puppets. Useless to his cause. Still, he can't blame them for not even daring to glimpse at the King's children.

Somehow he manages to reach the library without attracting any unwanted attention. He shuts the door close behind him and leans against it. The scent of old books is refreshing and relaxing at the same time. The trembling subsides enough for him to walk to the table and continue the work he was doing before getting summoned. He swallows hard at the reminder. /p>

His fingers grasp the pen tightly and he starts working again more like a machine than a person. Working is nice. It distracts him. It takes his attention and focuses it on issues of great significance. He doesn't realise Wolfgang's presence until the prince hovers next to his face. He is close. Not that close as that night, but close. He doesn't pull away. He is the best distraction he can find in this golden prison. He doesn't stay long. He gives him advice and recommendations, lies about his well-being and smiles as Wolfgang leaves to continue his studies. 

At any other time, any other place, the smile would last longer.


	3. Chapter 3

One of the first lessons he learnt at the palace was that life as a prince is difficult.

Well, life as a responsible prince. And Wolfgang wants to be responsible. He wants to make a good King. Unlike that abomination that sits on the throne.

His fingers clench around the books he is carrying. The mere thought of that man sickens him. He will never forgive him for what he has done, for what he is doing.

Their revolution will succeed. Shin handles everything with precision and cautiousness. It's the least he can do to follow his directions and learn the ways of a man meant to sit on the throne. And when he does, he will give Shin the freedom he deserves. When he does... maybe they can dance again.

A wistful smile crosses his face at the possibility. A smile that widens as he turns the corner. Shin is there walking towards him from the other side of the corridor. He grins widely, ever so grateful to spend the tiniest moment at Shin's side.

It doesn't take long for him to realize that something is wrong. Shin's straight posture is replaced by a series of messy steps. He rubs his eyes and cold anger rushes through him. Shin is crying. He has never seen him cry before. He wants to find the one responsible right then and there and erase them from this world. But Shin is more important.

He tosses his books and notes aside as he rushes to his side. He wants to touch him, _he does_ , but his hands freeze a breath away from him. Except for that night, Shin has never allowed much contact between them. He doesn't want to force him to do things he will later regret. Instead, he hovers as near as possible, his voice anxious as he asks Shin what happened.

The look in his eyes when Shin looks up, shooks him to the core. It's a mix of vulnerable and desperate. Shin is anything but that. As always he is more shaken by Shin's words than by his looks.

_I am yours._

For a few moments, he freezes, those three words repeating themselves in his mind. The meaning finally sets in. A fire spreads through his body, blazing and demanding. Those words... he will be a fool if he doesn't accept them. Shin doesn't protest when he grasps his hand and pulls them behind the privacy of a few columns.

Shin's hand is warm and still horribly trembling and his heart breaks at the sight. Shin's hands -Shin's wonderful, steady hands- shouldn't be in such a sorry state. He knows who is to blame for this. As the days go by his desire to kill the man who fathered him grows stronger.

Shin separates their hands and he lets him have his space. Until one of those white gloves makes its appearance. It is like a barrier between them, a barrier that he now wants to obliterate. With a swift motion, he takes Shin's hand and places soft kisses on the bare skin. He never loses Shin's eyes, wanting to capture every reaction on the usually passive face. Shin's nails dig on his back as he kisses his neck, knowing that it will leave a mark against porcelain skin.

What they are doing isn't wrong. As a matter of fact, it couldn't be more right. But it's dangerous. He knows it. It's an act that can get him killed and land Shin in a situation even worse than death. But at that moment with Shin in his arms and his breath teasing his ear, he doesn't care.

They will figure this out.

Together, as always.


End file.
